


the breakfast club ★ frerard

by fairyrot



Category: Fall Out Boy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, Asshole Frank Iero, Bottom Gerard Way, Breakfast Club References, Dom Frank Iero, Drugs, Everyone Is Gay, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Gerard Way is a Sweetheart, Horny Teenagers, Inspired by The Breakfast Club (1985), M/M, Punk Frank Iero, References to Drugs, Sex, Shy Gerard Way, Smut, Sub Gerard Way, Teen Angst, Teen Crush, Teen Frank Iero, Teen Romance, Teen Years, Teenage Rebellion, Teenagers, Top Frank Iero
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:54:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 15,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25409518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyrot/pseuds/fairyrot
Summary: ⋆ ˚｡⋆ ♡ ⋆:° 𖤐⋆ ˚｡⋆five students meet in detention. none know each othertruly. but nine hours later, something changes all that.━━ frerard.fanfiction. +15© fairyrotstarted  - july 2020finished - february 2021
Comments: 2
Kudos: 21





	1. detention, 7:00am

_Saturday... March 24th, 1984. Shermer High School, Shermer, Illinois._

**_Dear Mr. Vernon..._ **

_We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was that we did wrong, what we did was wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write this essay telling you who we think we are, what do you care?_

_You see us as you want to see us... in the simplest terms, and the most convenient definitions._

_You see us as a brain, an athlete, a basket case, a princess and a criminal._

_Correct?_

_That's the way we saw each other at seven o'clock this morning._

**_We were brainwashed..._ **

*

A raven-haired boy with soft feminine features sat in his father's car, staring wistfully at the school, dreading the moment he had to set foot into the drab building. He rolled his eyes slightly.

"I can't believe you can't get me out of this... I mean it's so absurd I have to be here on a Saturday! It's not like I'm a defective or anything."

His father turned to face him slightly. "I'll make it up to you... Gerard, honey, ditching class to go shopping doesn't make you a defective. Have a good day."

Gerard rolled his eyes again and grabbed his lunch bag and stepped elegantly out of the car.

*

A timid boy with a rather large forehead sat clutching his brown paper bag whilst his mother scolded him.

"Is this the first time or the last time we do this?" she fumed.

"Last," he replied with an upset tone.

"Well get in there and use the time to your advantage."

"Mom, we're not supposed to study; we just have to sit there and do nothing."

"Well mister you figure out a way to study," she said.

"Yeah!" his younger sister replied annoyingly.

The boy just stared in disbelief at his mother and sibling. "Well go!" she shooed him out the car. He climbed out awkwardly and walked towards the building.

*

The father and son duo sat in the red truck in silence, before the lad's father broke it.

"Hey, I screwed around... guys screw around, there's nothing wrong with that." The boy nodded. "Except you got caught, sport."

His son stopped staring into space as his bright eyes flickered up. "Yeah, Mom already reemed me, alright?"

"You wanna miss a match? You wanna blow your ride? Now no school's gonna give a scholarship to a discipline case." He replied angrily. The boy stared again at the man who gave little to no compassion or consideration for him, grabbed his letterman jacket and got out, slamming the truck door.

*

Shaved blond sides with a black swoop of hair covering his temple, some sunglasses and trench coat paired with thick chains & heavy boots stomped across the field that morning; the criminal. He began to cross the road with little care with the fact a car was racing towards him, bound to knock him over- yet it stopped at the last second. Once again, another narrow escape; but it didn't faze him as he continued to trudge across the pavement up towards school steps.

A boy with long hair covering his eyes, all dressed in black stepped out the speeding car. He treaded forward slightly to see through the front window, only for the car to promptly speed away, leaving smoke and an ignored child in its wake.

*

The students gathered in a rather large library, with six tables in two rows of three. The boy with shining raven locks sat examining his nails on the front table, as the jock nodded towards the free chair at the end of the desk. He shrugged and sent a small half-smile his way before returning to fixating on his nails as the jock sat down, running a hand through his curly hair. A timid boy entered the library next, taking the seat behind the jock and prom queen, hoping not to disturb anyone.

And in walked the punk kid, touching every door, book and swatting a lazy-susan of keyrings before stealing a card or two to stare at, later throwing it over his shoulder. He jabbed a thumb at the shy boy, indicating to go to the table on the other side. The nervous teen reluctantly moved to the opposite table as the older lad took his place.

Lastly, the basket case. He walked quickly around the tables, almost all the way to the back of the library and sits in the table furthest away, the one just behind the kid with a big forehead, making no eye contact or noise. The duo on the front table snicker at his late arrival, as the big foreheaded kid in front of the guy clad in all black, turned to look at him in confusion before turning away.

Entering holding a stack of papers in hand was Principal Vernon. " _Well_... well. Here we are! I want to congratulate you for being on time."

The prom queen raises his hand. "Excuse me, sir? I think there's been a mistake. I know it's detention, but... um... I don't think I belong in _here_."

But Vernon does not care or bother to answer. "It is now seven-oh-six. You have exactly eight hours and fifty-four minutes to think about why you're here. To ponder the error of your ways..."

Whilst the principal spoke, the lad with blond sides and black hair hawked and caught his spit, catching the attention of the much-disgusted prima-donna.

"...and you may not talk." The raven-haired boys' face fell slightly. "You will not move from these seats." He glanced to see the shy boy just about to switch chairs.

Vernon turned to the criminal behind the duo on the front table and pointed. "... and you..." he fumed whilst yanking the chair out from under his feet. "... will not sleep."

"Alright people, we're gonna try something a little different today. We are going to write an essay – of no less than a thousand words - describing to me who you think you are."

The criminal piped up. "Is this a test?"

Vernon continued to go around the group handing out paper and pencils whilst taking no notice of him. "And when I say essay... I mean essay. I do not mean a single word repeated a thousand times. Is that clear, Mr. Iero?"

Frank Iero smirked as he looked up. "Crystal..."

"Good," He replied. "Maybe you'll learn a little something about yourself. Maybe you'll even decide whether or not you care to return."

The shy boy raised his hand and stood up. "You know, I can answer that right now sir. That'd be a 'no' from me. 'cause..."

Vernon rolled his eyes. "Sit down Brendon."

"Thank you, sir," he mumbled before sitting down again.

"My office," Vernon pointed in the vague direction of the hallway. "...is right across that hall. Any monkey business is ill-advised." He turned to face the group of five. "Any questions?"

"Yeah I got a question," Iero spoke smoothly. "Does Barry Manilow know that you raid his wardrobe?"

His comment earned a few giggles and smiles throughout the group.

"I'll give you the answer to that question, Mr Iero, next Saturday. Don't mess with the bull young man, you'll get the horns," he left swiftly, leaving the door open.

Frank was the first to speak. "That man," he jabbed a finger in the past wake of Mr Vernon. "is a brownie hound."

The group attempt to get comfortable, only for it to be disturbed by a loud snapping sound. Brendon turned to look behind him, and it is Mikey Way, the boy dressed in black. Frank turned towards him as his eyes widen. Eventually, everyone turned to look at Mikey, who didn't notice until a few seconds later due to staring at a bitten nail.

"You keep eating your hand and you're not gonna be hungry for lunch," says Frank.

Mikey didn't respond, only for him to bite his nail again and then spit the nail at Frank. Iero continued to stare at him, his eyes narrowed slightly. "I've seen you before, you know."

A loud creaking comes from Vernon's office as the group notice him peek out from behind his desk.

The kid in front of Mikey began to whisper softly to himself as he clicked his pen. "Who do I think I am? Who are you? ... _Who_ _are_ _you_?" He paused to bite his pen and attached it to his bottom lip. "I am... a _walrus_..."

Frank noticed this and squinted at him. Brendon turned around with the pen hanging off his lip, and fiddled with it to take it off, seemingly embarrassed. Frank turned away slightly and began to take off his coat. Funnily enough, so did the Brendon kid. They both stop and Frank glared at him, a look filled with anger and curiosity. He finally takes it off just as the kid pulled his back on, rubbing his hands together and emulating cold. Iero is still staring at him.

"It's the shits, huh?" he nervously laughs.

But Frank didn't answer, and just kept glaring at him. Turning away, Frank grabbed a piece of paper and crumpled it, throwing it idly in front of him where the popular duo was sat. He missed, the paper just grazing the top of the prom-queens' head. He and the jock sitting next to him acknowledged the paper ball, but just ignored Frank. Seemingly unsatisfied with no reaction, he began to sing a song by Cream, rather loudly too.

"I can't believe this is _really_ happening to me..." Gerard mutters to himself. Suddenly, Frank stopped singing abruptly.

"Oh shit!" he cursed. "What're we s'posed to do if we hafta take a piss?"

" _Please_..." uttered the prima-donna, disgusted.

"If you gotta go," the group hear his fly unzip. "Ya gotta go."

Everyone stops and stared at the punk.

"oh my _God_!"

"Hey, you're not urinating in here man!" said the jock, snapping at him.

"Don't talk, don't talk, it makes it crawl back up," whispered Frank quickly.

"You whip it out and you're dead before the first drop hits the floor."

Frank paused, before looking up at the lad in front of him. "You're pretty sexy when you get angry, Pete." He made a little growling noise and zipped up his fly. Turning to Brendon, he pointed at the door.

"Hey homeboy, why don't you go close that door. We'll get the prom-queen- impregnated!"

The prom queen slams his hands on the table before whipping around and staring daggers at Iero.

"Hey. Hey!" shouts the wrestler.

"What?"

"If I lose my temper, you're totalled, man," he threatens.

" _Totally_?" quips Frank.

"Totally."

"Why don't you just shut up? Nobody here is interested," Gerard shook his ebony locks out of his face before speaking.

"Really... buttface." The popular duo agreed.

Frank leaned forward on the table to get closer to the pair. "Well hey Sporto! What'd you do to get in here? Forget to wash your jock?"

Brendon cleared his throat from the other side of the tables and spoke out nervously. "Uh, excuse me, fellas? I think we should just write our papers..."

"Look," said Pete. "Just because you live in here doesn't give you the right to be a pain in the ass, so knock it off!"

Frank frowned and mockingly registered pain in his face.

"It's a free country."

"He's doing it to get a rise out of you! Just ignore him," explained Gerard.

Frank smirked.

"Sweets?" he called, shaking his fringe out his face. The boy turned around tentatively.

"You couldn't ignore me if you tried," he said sensually, like honey dripping from his words. The raven-haired boys' eyes widened slightly before turning around to face forward again.

"So... so!" Frank began again to the duo sat in front of him.

"Are you guys like boyfriend/boyfriend?" A pause, but no answer.

"Steady dates?" a beat passes, but no response.

"Lo—vers?" Nothing.

"C'mon Sporto, level with me. Do you slip him the hot... beef... injection?"

The duo turned around with screams of 'Go to hell!' and 'Enough!'

They heard Vernon shout from his office: "Hey! What's going on in there?!"

Silence suddenly fell across the group as they stared at each other.

'Sporto' turned away from Frank, uttering "scumbag" under his breath.

Iero promptly stood up and walked over to the railing and hoisted himself up on to it.

"Why don't you say we close that door... We can't have any kind of party with Vernon checking us out every few seconds."

"Well, you know the door's s'posed to stay open," chimed in Brendon.

Frank rolled his eyes. "So what?"

Pete snapped, clearly already tired of Franks antics. "So why don't you just shut _UP_! There are four other people in here you know."

"God, you _can_ count. See? I knew you had to be smart to be a... a wrestler," smirked the criminal.

"Who the hell are you to judge anybody anyway?" he retorted.

"Really," prom-queen mused.

"You know Frank?" Pete began, Frank turned towards him slightly. "You don't even count. I mean if you disappeared forever it wouldn't make any difference. You may as well not even _exist_ at this school."

Silence fell over the group again, with Frank upset at this, regardless, the teenager didn't let his emotions out. He paused for a moment before speaking. "Well, I'll just run right out and join the wrestling team."

Prom queen and jock laugh at him as he turns to face the boy with raven hair. "Maybe the prep club too! Student council..."

"No," snickered Pete. "They wouldn't take you."

"I'm hurt," whimpered Frank with mock offence.

"You know why guys like you knock everything?" Gerard piped up.

"Oh, this should be stunning..." Frank muttered to himself.

Gerard narrowed his eyes "It's 'cause you're afraid."

"Oh god! You ritchies are so smart, that's _exactly_ why I'm not heavy in activities," exclaimed Frank sarcastically.

Brendon began to speak to no one in particular "I'm in the math club..." he seemed sad that he was left out.

"See, you're afraid that they won't take you. You don't belong so you just have to dump all over it," stated the prom queen.

" _Well_ , it wouldn't have anything to do with you activities people being _assholes_ , now, _would it_?" counteracted frank.

The raven-haired boy scowled in response. "Well you wouldn't know; you don't even know any of us!"

"Well, I don't know any lepers either, but I'm not gonna run out and join one of their fucking clubs."

"Hey, let's watch the mouth, huh?" Pete warned.

Brendon again felt he needed to contribute to the group conversation. "I'm in the physics club too..."

"S'cuse me a sec," he told Gerard. Frank turned to Brendon raising an eyebrow. "What are you babbling about?"

Brendon clear his throat. "Well, what I said was...I'm in the math club, the Latin club and the phy- physics club, physics club."

Frank nodded slightly and turned to Claire. "Hey, Cherry." Gerard turned to face him; his face twisted with a sour expression. "Do _you_ belong to the physics club?"

"That's an academic club!"

"So?"

"So? Academic clubs aren't the same as other kinds of clubs," He defended.

" _Oh_ , but to dorks like him," Frank jabbed a finger at Brendon, "they _are_."

"What do you guys do in your club?" asked Frank.

"In physics, um, we... ah, we talk about physics...about properties of physics." He nodded slightly, clicking his pen against the desk.

"So, it's sorta social? _Demented and sad_ , but social. _Right_?"

"Yeah, well, I guess you could consider it a social situation. I mean there are other children in my club and uh, at the end of the year we have, um, you know, a big banquet, at the, uh, at the Hilton."

"You load up, you party," joked Iero.

"Well, no, we get dressed up. I mean, but, we don't...we don't get high," mumbled the Brainiac.

"Only burners like you get high..." said Gerard almost wistfully at Frank.

Frank stared a Gerard slightly, only for their gaze to be broken by them realising that Brendon was still talking to a wall. "And, uh, I didn't have any shoes. So, I had to borrow my dad's. It was kinda weird 'cause my mom doesn't like me to wear other people's shoes. And, uh, my cousin Kent...my cousin Kendall from, uh, Indiana... He got high once and you know, he started eating like really weird foods? And uh, and then he just felt like he didn't belong anywhere. You know, kinda like, you know 'Twilight Zone' kinda..."

"Sounds like you," giggled Gerard, winking at Frank.

"Look, you guys keep up your talking and Vernon's gonna come _right_ in here! I got a meet this Saturday and I'm not gonna miss it on account of you _boneheads_."

Frank faced Pete. "Oh and wouldn't that be a bite!" he let out a moan of fake agony. "Missing a whole _wrestling meet_!"

"Well you wouldn't know anything about it, _faggot_. You never competed in your _whole life_!"

Frank whined with mock hurt. "Oh, I know...I feel all empty inside because of it. I have such a _deep_ admiration for guys that roll around on the floor with other guys!"

"Ahh...you'd never miss it. You don't have any goals," smirked Pete.

"Oh, but I do."

"Yeah?" challenged the wrestler.

"I wanna be just – like – _you_. I figure all I need's a... lobotomy and some tights!"

Brendon suddenly perked up. "You wear tights?"

Pete turned around to look at him. " _No_ , I don't wear tights, I wear the required uniform."

"Tights..."

"Shut up!" growled Pete defensively.

They heard Vernon moving around out in the hall, so Frank quickly hopped off the railing and sat in the chair between Gerard and Pete. He faked contemplating over his actions and being deep in his thoughts, hands clasped in front of him. Vernon went back into his office. Frank chuckled lowly and got up, walking towards the double doors that separate the library from the hallway.

"You know there's not s'posed to be any monkey business!" Brendon interjected worriedly.

The criminal turned and pointed at Brendon whilst moonwalking towards the door. "Young man have you finished your paper?" telling him off in a Vernon-like style.

Frank turned back away and went to the door. Looking around cautiously, he fiddles with the door hinge, and wiggled out a screw.

"What are you gonna do?" asked the boy with ebony hair.

"Drop dead, I hope!" grumbled the wrestler.


	2. treading waters

Brendon looked up to see Frank fiddling with the hinges on the door. "Frank, that's, that's school property there... y'know, it doesn't belong to us. It's not something to be toyed with!"

The criminal continued to ignore the smart kid and pulled the screw from the door. As the door slammed shut the lad legged it to his seat.

"That's very funny. Come on, fix it!" ordered Pete.

"Am I a genius?" quipped Frank.

"No, you're an asshole!"

Frank smirked. "What a funny guy!"

"Fix the door, Frank!"

"I've been here before; I know what I'm doing."

"NO! Fix the door, get up and FIX IT!"

"SHUT UP!"

"GOD DAMNIT!" the group hears Vernon cry from outside the hall. He busts open the door and stormed in. "Why is that door closed?!"

The group of five say nothing and stare in silence.

Vernon tensed up more to the point of a vein protruding slightly from his temple. "WHY IS THAT DOOR CLOSED!?"

"How're we s'posed to know? We're not s'posed to move, right?" piped up Frank.

Vernon turned to Gerard, glaring with menace. "Why?"

The raven-haired boy jumped slightly before stammering out a response. "We were just sitting here, like we were supposed to..."

Vernon looked around a bit before a comment came from Frank again.

"I think a screw fell out of it," he mumbled.

"It just closed, sir..." said Pete.

Vernon wasn't convinced. He pointed his daggers at Mikey, sitting quietly at the back. "who?!" Mikey squeaked out of surprise, slammed his head onto the table and hid inside his jacket hood, frozen and scared.

Frank saved Mikey by speaking for him. "He doesn't talk sir..."

Vernon gritted his teeth in impatience. "Give me that screw."

"I don't have it."

"You want me to yank you outta that seat and _SHAKE_ it outta you?"

"I don't have it," repeats the criminal as he shrugs. "Screws fall out all the time, the world's an imperfect place."

"Give it to me Iero..."

The prom queen cuts in. "Excuse me, sir, why would anybody want to steal a _screw_?"

"You watch it, young lady," the principal holds a steady tone with him.

The two share a look as Vernon turns around to find a chair to hold the door back.

"The door's _way_ too heavy, sir," mumbles Iero.

Vernon disregarded Frank and put the chair there anyway. The door slammed quickly at a ferocious rate along with a cry of 'GODDAMINT' from the principal. The group snigger and share shy smiles with one another. Storming in again, he calls for Pete. "Pete Wentz! Get up here. Come on, front and centre – let's go!"

Pete grumbles slightly as he stands up to help Vernon.

"Hey!" shouts Frank. "How come Pete gets to get up? If he gets up, we'll all get up... it'll be anarchy!" his voice gets louder with each sentence.

Pete and Vernon are attempting to move the steel magazine rack in front of the door, with a few grunts of 'watch the magazines!' from Vernon.

Frank sighed. "Well, it's out of my hands."

The magazine rack managed to fit into the hallway, but it blocked the entire door.

"That's very clever sir, but what if there's a _fire_? I think violating fire code and _endangering_ the lives of children would be unwise at this juncture in your career sir," Iero smirked, knowing he had the principal he despised so much wrapped around his little finger.

Vernon paused for a second to absorb the thought. He turned to Pete. "Alright, what you are doing with this, get this outta here for God's sake! What's the matter with you? Come on!"

Brendon looked up and spoke softly. "You know the school comes equipped with fire exits at either end of the library," signalling to each end of the room.

"Show Dick some respect!" said the criminal jokingly.

Pete gets shooed away to his seat by the principal. "I expected a little more from a varsity letterman," he scolded lightly.

Vernon looks up to Iero. "You're not fooling anybody, Iero. The next screw that falls out is gonna be you," he snarled.

He turned to leave but too soon did Frank utter 'eat my shorts' under his breath.

The principal froze and whipped around to face the young lad. "What was that?"

Frank looked up in a challenge. "Eat. My. Shorts."

"You just bought yourself another Saturday mister."

"Oh, Christ..." mocked Frank.

"You just bought one more right there!"

"Well, I'm free the Saturday after that. Beyond that, I'm gonna have to check my calendar!"

"GOOD! 'Cause it's gonna be filled. We'll keep goin'. You want another one? Say the word, just say the word! Instead of going to prison, you'll come here! ... are you through?"

The criminal shook his head slightly. "No."

"I'm doing society a favour!"

"So?!"

"That's another one, right now! I've got you for the rest of your natural-born life if you don't watch your step! You want another one?!"

"Yes!"

"You got it! You got another one, right there! That's another one pal!"

Gerard interjected worriedly: "Cut it out!" his voice breaks slightly. He paused and mouthed 'stop' to Iero sitting behind him.

"You through?" continued Vernon.

Frank hesitated for a second. "Not. Even. Close. _Bud_!"

"Good! You got one more, right there!"

"Do you really think I give a shit?" mumbled Frank.

" _Another_."

Glaring at the principal, the punk dared to ask, 'how many is that?'

Brendon lit up as he began to talk quickly. "That's seven including the one when we first came in and you asked Mr Vernon here whether Barry Manilow knew that he raided his closet."

"Now it's eight," said Vernon. Turning to the brainiac he muttered 'stay out of it'.

"Excuse me, sir, it's seven," Brendon showed the number seven by holding up his fingers.

"Shut it, peewee." Brendon nodded in defeat at the principal and looked down again.

"You're mine, Iero. For two months, I gotcha," sneered Vernon.

"What can I say? I'm thrilled!" leered Iero.

Vernon rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sure that's exactly what you want these people to believe. You know something, Iero? You ought to spend a little more time trying and a little less time trying to impress people. You might be better off..."

He turned to address the group. "Alright, that's it! I'm going to be right outside those doors. The next time I hafta come in here... I'm cracking skulls!"

As if on cue, Frank joined in with mouthing, 'I'm cracking skulls'.

The sly principal slinked out of the library and slammed the door.

"FUCK YOU!" screamed Frank.


	3. mid-morning tension

The clock on the wall read quarter to eight. Frank took out a lighter and lit his shoe on fire. He grabbed his foot and brought the dancing flame to a cigarette jutting awkwardly out from his mouth, lighting it successfully and swatting out the flame. Gerard spread his arms out on the table, resting his head on his hand and daydreaming at the clock on the wall, itching for time to go faster. Fiddling awkwardly, Brendon corrected his posture a few times, clearly bothered by his balls. Pete just sat there watching the string of his sweatshirt go through one side to the other of his hood as he tugged them about. Mikey sat quietly, twiddling a sliver of black thread around his finger until it turned purple, and resumed drawing a wooden lodge in the forest, sprinkling dandruff over the paper and ink as snow. The group of five eventually fell fast asleep.

Vernon steps into the library and snapped. "Wake up!"

Not one student stirred. Vernon rolled his eyes. "Who has to go to the lavatory?"

Everyone raised their hands whilst their heads were still against the table.

The wall clock now read 10:22am. Pete was doing some arm stretches against the railing where the book check out was, with Frank sitting idly tearing pages out of a random book.

"That's real intelligent," Pete said whilst shaking his head.

"You're right. It's wrong to destroy literature," he smiled whilst tearing several pages out and throwing them on to the floor. "It's such fun to read... and Molet really pumps my nads."

"Molière: Mol-yare," murmured Gerard. Frank stared slightly at him with a quirk of a smile on his lips as the prom-queen stared back with a wide smile and bit his lip.

"I love his work," Brendon began, but was abruptly cut off when Frank threw the rest of the pages of the book at him. Frank grabbed the card catalogue drawer and began to take the cards out and rearrange them.

"Big deal. Nothing to do when you're locked in a vacancy."

Pete rolled his eyes. "Speak for yourself."

Iero turned his head upwards. "Do you think I'd speak for _you_? I don't even know your language!"

Pete shrugged the comment off and turned to Gerard. "You grounded tonight?"

Gerard's lips pressed into a thin line. "I don't know, my mum said I was but my dad told me to just blow her off."

"Big party at Stubbies, parents are in Europe. Should be pretty wild."

"Yeah?"

Pete smiled. "Yeah. Can you go?"

"I doubt it," sighed Gerard.

"How come?"

"Well 'cause if I do what my mother tells me not to do, it's because my father says it's okay. There's like this whole big monster. It's endless and it's a total drag. It's like any minute... _divorce_..."

Frank was silently watching the exchange between the popular duo and broke the silence.

"Who do you like better?"

Gerard's eyes flicked to Iero, confused why he spoke. "What?"

"You like your old man better than your mom?" he pressed.

"They're both strict."

"No, I mean, if you had to choose between them."

The prom queen looked down and shrugged his shoulders. "I dunno, I'd probably go live with my brother. I mean, I don't think either one of them gives a shit about me... it's like they use me just to get back at each other."

A sudden voice shouted from the back of the room. Mikey.

"HA!!!" he cried. He relaxed back in his chair after his short outburst and blew his hair out his eyes and grinned slightly, as did Pete.

"Shut up!" snarled Gerard.

"You're just feeling sorry for yourself," concluded the jock.

"Yeah, well if I didn't nobody else would!" cried Gerard.

"Aw, you're breaking my heart," he snapped back sarcastically.

Frank jumped down from the desk and straightened himself out. As he spoke, any tone indication of fun or jokes disappeared and was replaced with an aggressive defence.

"Sporto?"

"What?"

Iero moved closer to him, face to face with him. "Do you get along with _your parents_?"

"Well if I say yes, I'm an idiot right?"

Frank smirked slightly. "You're an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, well, _you're a liar too_." And with that the criminal shoved past him and shot a wink to Gerard, who blushed.

Pete shoved Frank shoulder blade as he walked past. "You know something man? If we weren't in school right now, I'd _waste_ you."

Frank just pointed his middle finger at the floor. "Can you hear this? Want me to turn it up?" He then proceeded to flip up his hand and gave Pete the bird.

A nervous Brendon approached the situation and put his hand on both of the older boys' shoulders. "Hey fellas, I mean..."

The pair slapped Brendon's hands away from them. Brendon nonetheless continued. "I don't like my parents either, I don't... I don't get along with them... their idea of parental compassion is just, you know, _wacko_." He rotated his hands around the sides of his head to prove his point.

Frank turned to Brendon. "Dork?"

"Yeah?"

"You are a parent's _wet dream_ , okay?" Frank clapped him twice on the shoulder before he began to walk away.

"Well, that's a problem!" whined Brendon.

"Look, I can see you getting all bunged up for them making you wear these kinda clothes. But face it; you're a neo-maxi-zoom-dweebie. What would you be doing if you weren't out making yourself a better citizen?"

"Why do you have to insult everybody?" asked Pete passive-aggressively.

"I'm being honest, _asshole_. I would expect you to know the difference."

"Yeah, well he's got a name!" Pete approached Brendon.

"What's your name again?"

"Brendon Urie."

"My condolences," said Frank in a fake sad way.

The criminal walked towards the prom queen who was staring at him from afar.

"What's your name?" Gerard asked.

"What's yours?" questioned Frank defensively.

"Gerard Way."

"Ge- _Rard_?"

"Gerard. It's a family name."

"No... It's a fat boys name."

"Well thank you..." Gerard rolled his eyes.

"You're welcome."

"I'm not fat!"

"Well not at present but I could see you really pushing maximum density. You see, I'm not sure if you know this...but there are _two kinds_ of fat people. There's fat people that were born to be fat, and then there's fat people that were once _thin_ , but they became _fat_... so when you look at them you can sorta see that _thin person inside_. You see, you're gonna get married, you're gonna squeeze out a few puppies and then, uh..." He mimed becoming fat, making noises.

Gerard was clearly insulted and gave him the finger.

" _Oh_..." said Frank, pretending to be taken aback. "Obscene finger gestures from such a _pristine_ boy!"

"I'm not that pristine!" retorted Gerard resentfully.

Frank bent down closer to Gerard at the table he was sitting at, dominating him posture wise and staring at him in the eye.

"Are you a virgin?"

A beat passed with no response. "I'll bet you a _million dollars_ that you are... Let's end the suspense! Is it gonna be... a _white weddin'?_ "

"Why don't you just shut up?" sneered Gerard.

"Have you ever kissed a boy, on the mouth...? Have you ever been felt up; over the bra... under the blouse, shoes off...hoping to God your parents don't walk in?"

"Do you want me to puke?" mumbled Gerard, clearly upset.

Frank ignored his comment and pressed on. "Over the panties... no bra... blouse unbuttoned, Calvin's in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?"

Gerard's facial features squirmed with worry and discomfort, and Pete jumped into his defense.

"Leave him alone!"

Frank slowly stood up from his hunched over position in front of Gerard and faced Pete.

"I said leave him alone!"

"You gonna make me?" pushed Iero.

"Yeah."

The criminal swaggered over to where the jock stood and squared up. "You and how many of your friends?"

"Just me, just you and me. Two hits. Me hitting you, you hittin' the floor... Anytime you're ready, pal."

Frank goes to hit him but Wentz got him down on the ground with a wrestling move.

"I don't wanna get into to this with you man..." said Frank with surprising calm tone

Pete got up. "Why not?"

Frank shook off the dust from the floor and stretched slightly.

"'Cause I'd kill you." He smirked with ease. Pete stared in slight horror and cocked an eyebrow.

"It's real simple. I'd kill you and your fucking parents would sue me and it would be a big mess and I don't care enough about you to bother."

"Chicken shit..." hissed Wentz as he turned to walk away.

Pete wasn't convinced as he turned around and shook his head slightly, but his doubt soon disappeared once the sound of a blade flicking open filled the deadly silence. Frank wasted no time in stabbing the switchblade with a huge force into the chair. Mikey secretly took the knife out of the chair and hid it inside his coat, unbeknownst to Frank.

"Let's end this... right now," seethed Pete. "You don't _talk_ to him; you don't _look_ at him and YOU _DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT HIM_! You understand me?!"

Frank absorbed Pete's little rant as he stared at the floor. He looked up briefly with an indescribable emotion in his eyes.

"I'm trying to help him," he stated softly.


	4. janitor's pre-lunch visit

The doors to the library were swung open, and the children's heads swooped forwards and ran to random seats. Fortunately, it was just Carl the janitor. A radio in one of the buckets blared out some random pop crap from a local radio station as Carl pushed the cleaning cart forwards.

"Brendon, how you doing?"

Frank leaned forwards. "Your dad works here?" he grinned.

Brendon, visibly embarrassed, looked away. Frank took this as a signal to embarrass him further publicly.

"Uh, Carl?" he asked.

"What?"

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure," the janitor nodded.

"How does one become a janitor?" questioned Iero, feigning seriousness.

"You wanna me a janitor?" laughed Carl.

"No, I just wanna know how one _becomes_ a janitor because Andrew here, is very interested in pursuing a career in the custodial arts," taunted Iero jokily.

"Oh, really? You guys think I'm just some untouchable peasant? Peon? Huh?" said the janitor mockingly, waving his hands around. "Maybe so, but following a broom around after shitheads like you for the past eight years I've learned a couple of things..."

The group collectively listened in on some small nuggets of wisdom. "I look through your letters, I look through your lockers..."

The mention of the word " _locker_ " made Frank's head jolt up and his eyes widen.

"... I listen to your conversations; you don't you don't know that, but I do. I am the _eyes and ears_ of this institution my friends. By the way, that clock's twenty minutes fast."

And with that, carl left the room. Upset commentary and groans were thrown around the group, but not Frank. Frank Iero smiled instead.

*

The clock struck half past eleven with a small ding in Vernon's office, to which he sighed and stood up awkwardly. The group of five across the hall began to whistle a marching tune rather in time, unfortunately for it to be quickly cut off. He stormed into the library to hear Iero whistle Beethoven's 5th.

"Alright girls, that's thirty minutes for lunch," Vernon announced.

"Here?" piped up Wentz.

"Here," replied the principal.

"Well, I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place for us to eat lunch in, sir."

Vernon scoffed. "Well, I don't care what you think, Pete."

Frank took this as an opportunity to wreak more havoc upon the toxic headmaster. "Uh, Dick? Excuse me, Rich... will _milk_ be made available to us?"

"We're extremely thirsty sir," added Pete.

Gerard too jumped on the bandwagon. "I have a very low tolerance for dehydration."

"I've seen her dehydrate sir, it's pretty gross," continued Pete.

"Relax! I'll get it," smirked Frank as he stood up slowly, his only purpose of offering to simply wind-up Vernon.

"Ah, ah, ah grab some wood there, bub!" scolded the principal as Frank smirked and sat down again. "What do you think, I was born yesterday? You think I'm gonna have _you_ roaming these halls?"

"You," he pointed at Pete. Pete and Gerard both nodded at each other hoping to get picked to do something together.

"And you," he said, pointing at...

Mikey.

"Hey! What's her name? Wake her! Wake her up! Come on, on your feet missy. Let's go! This is no rest home! There's a soft drink machine in the teacher's lounge. Let's go!"

Mikey said nothing and stared with a strange angry look in his eyes, but nonetheless got up and threw his bag over his shoulders and marched off, leaving Pete to follow suit.

*

Mikey and Pete we're slowly walking towards the teacher's lounge to collect drinks.

"So, what's your poison?" Pete asked playfully as an attempt to break the cold silence.

Mikey said nothing.

"What do you drink?"

Still nothing.

"Okay. Forget I asked..."

Around two beats passed before Mikey spoke. "Vodka."

Pete turned around. "Vodka? When do you drink vodka?"

"Whenever," said the basket case, shrugging his shoulders slightly to emphasise his point.

"A lot?"

Mikey smiled crudely. "Tons..."

"Is that why you're here today?" asked the jock.

Mikey went silent and didn't respond.

Pete pressed again. "Why are you here?"

"Why are _you_ here?" snapped Mikey.

The pair stopped walking and Pete leaned against the wall. "Um, I'm here today, because uh, because my coach & my father don't want me to blow my ride. See, I get treated differently because uh, Coach thinks I'm a winner... so does my old man. I'm not a winner because I wanna be one, I'm a winner because I got _strength_ and _speed_. Kinda like a racehorse. That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."

Mikey clearly didn't believe a word of it and scoffed. "Yeah? That's very interesting. Now why don't you tell me why you're really in here."

Pete sighed loudly. "Forget it!"

*

Brendon, Frank and Gerard were sat near a bookshelf waiting for drinks to arrive.

"Gee? You wanna see a picture of a guy with elephantitus of the nuts? It's pretty tasty!" Frank mocked.

"No thank you," the prom queen declined quietly.

"How do you think he rides a bike?"

Gerard just rolled his eyes and turned away in disgust, facing the opposite side of the library whilst leaning against the big tree statue in the centre.

"Oh, Gerard? Would you ever consider dating a guy like this?"

"Can't you just leave me _alone_?!" cried the prima-donna exasperatedly.

"I mean if he had a great personality, and was a good dancer, and had a cool car - although you'd probably have to ride in the back seat 'cause his _nuts_ would ride shotgun," laughed Frank.

"You know what I wish I was doing?" sighed Gerard to no one in particular.

"Oops, watch what you say, Brendon here is a cherry," the criminal whispered loudly, poking fun at the brainiac sitting close by him.

"A _cherry_?" accused Brendon defensively.

"I wish I was on a plane, to France," continued Gerard, not caring for the other two boys' conversation.

"I'm not a cherry," lied Brendon.

"When have you _ever_ gotten laid?" quizzed the criminal.

"I've laid, lotsa times!"

"Name _one_ ," challenged Frank.

Brendon squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. "She lives in Canada, met her at Niagara Falls; you wouldn't know her."

"Ever laid anyone around here?"

Brendon said nothing, shushed Frank and pointed at Gerard who's back was still turned.

"Oh! You and Gerard, did it!" framed Iero.

Gerard was ripped out of his daydream and turned around at the mention of his name and stared at the two people across of him. "What are you talking about?"

"Nothin', nothin'!" calmed Brendon, turning to Frank and mumbling, 'let's just drop it, we'll about it later'.

"No, drop what? What're you talking about?" queried the prom queen.

Frank further went in with his set up to embarrass Brendon. "Well, Brendon's trying to tell me that in addition to the number of girls and boys in the Niagara Falls area, that presently you and he are, riding the hobby horse!"

"Little pig!" exclaimed Gerard.

"No, I'm not! I'm not! Frank said I was a cherry and I said I wasn't, _that's it_ , that's all that was said!" defended the brainiac.

"Well, then what were you motioning to Gee for?" grinned Frank.

"You know I don't appreciate this very much, Brendon."

"He is lying!" cried the boy with glasses.

"Oh, you _weren't_ motioning to Gerard?" pressed the criminal.

"You know he's lying, right?"

"Were you or were you not motioning to Gerard?"

Brendon finally broke his wall down. "Yeah, but it was only...was only because I didn't want him to know that I was a virgin, okay?"

Frank said nothing and stared blankly at the boy sat next to him.

"Excuse me for being a virgin, I'm sorry!" quipped Brendon sarcastically.

Gerard softened the situation by chuckling lightly. "Why didn't you want me to know you were a virgin?" he asked gently.

"Because it's personal business, it's my personal, private business," rambled the brainiac.

"Well Brendon, it doesn't sound like you're doing any business," mumbled Frank.

Gerard eyeballed Frank harshly before turning to Brendon with a soft smile. "I think it's okay for a guy to be a virgin."

Brendon was pleasantly surprised. "You do?"

Gerard smiled and nodded.


	5. lunchtime agitation

It was now lunch hour, and everyone was taking something out of their bags to eat. Gerard had a small silver shopping back and delicately took out and placed a sushi platter and soy sauce jug with a chopstick holder on the desk in front of him.

Frank was sitting close behind him on an angle. “What’s in there?”

“Guess. Where’s your lunch?”

“You’re wearing it,” smirked Iero.

Way pulled a grimaced smile and quipped sarcastically. “You’re nauseating.”

Frank was feeling bored and was in a mood to wreak havoc – mostly because he had the munchies. He grabbed a Coke from the table and tossed it over to Mikey, who caught it firmly with his veiny, pale hands without even looking up. Mikey always reminded Frank of a vampire of some sort. The hair, eye makeup and pale complexion were a definite give away. He turned back to face the prom queen to see him setting up some sort of exotic looking food display.

‘He’s wack as fuck,’ thought the punk.

“What that?” he asked.

Gerard looked up from setting up his food with a mildly surprised look on his face to look at Frank. “It’s sushi.”

“ _Sushi_?”

The raven-haired boy chuckled slightly. “Yeah, rice, uh… raw fish and seaweed.”

Frank looked at him in a looked mixed with intrigue and disgust. “You won’t accept a guys tongue in your mouth and you’re gonna eat that?”

The prom queen rolled his eyes. “Can I eat?”

“I don’t know… give it a try…” said Frank with the same look of repulsion on his face.

Pete Wentz was sticking his hands around in a huge paper grocery bag, and pulling out: a bag of crisps, an apple, a banana, a pack of cookies, a carton of milk and not one, but _two_ sandwiches. He catches Frank and Gerard staring at him with confusion. “What’s your problem?” he asks defensively.

Mikey sits alone in the corner with his can of Coke which fizzed over when it was cracked open. He slurped up the excess loudly off the table and off his fingers. He then digs around in his bag, to pull out a lame sandwich. He opens it on the table and throws the meat slice away from the sandwich in the air, which then hit the sculpture nearby. Digging deeper in the bag, he finds several Pixi sticks and Cap’n Crunch which he then proceeds to tear open the sugar sticks all over the bread, and sprinkling the cereal on top of the sugar, mushing the bread down and taking a huge, loud bite.

The sound was like cracking bones. The group stared slightly at the spectacle but later ignored it.

Frank was feeling bored since his crush Gerard wasn’t giving him enough attention, so instead went over to Brendon.

“What are we having?” he said sitting down heavily.

“Uh, it’s your standard, regular lunch I guess,” replied the nerd.

The punk reached in the bag and pulled out a thermos, setting it on the table and jabbing a finger in its direction. “Milk?” he said almost mockingly.

“Soup,” Brendon corrected.

Frank went in the lunchbag again and pulls out a juice carton. Brendon attempted feebly to get his bag back, but Frank just slapped his hand as if he were a mere bug.

“That’s apple juice,” mumbled Urie.

“ _I can read_ … PB&J with the crusts cut off… Well Brendon, this is a very nutritious lunch, all the food groups are represented. Did your mum marry Mr. Rogers?” Frank laughed cruelly as he concluded pulling out everything from the bag and setting it on the table in front of him.

“Uh, no, Mr. Johnson,” said Brendon sadly, as if he almost didn’t get the joke.

“Ahh!” Frank smiled.

Pete and Gerard notice the interaction and smile at one another as Frank got up in the centre of the room.

“Here’s my impression of life at big Bren’s house!” giggled Frank.

He alternated between a loud, bellowing voice and a childish high-pitched squeal to represent Brendon and his dad.

“SON!”

“Yeah Dad?”

“How's your day, pal?”

“Great Dad, how's yours?”

“Super, say son, how'd you like to go fishing this weekend?”

“Great Dad, but I've got homework to do!”

“That's alright son, you can do it, on the boat!”

“Geee!!!”

“Dear, isn't our son swell?”

“Yes Dear, isn't life swell?” he said in a motherly way. He concluded the monologue with miming the mother and father kissing. All of a sudden it takes a sharp, unprecedented turn – ‘Brendon’s dad’ punches the mother in the face. It’s not quite funny anymore.

Pete wasn’t impressed, clearly. “Alright, what about your family?”

“Oh mine? That’s _real_ easy!”

Taking centre stage, Frank put a scary mask on his face and jabbed his finger forwards, a clear imitation of his father.

“Stupid, worthless, no good, God damned, freeloading son of a bitch, retarded, bigmouth, know it all, asshole jerk!” he spoke in a booming voice.

His expression softened and he crossed his arms and adopted a lighter tone of voice. “You forgot ugly, lazy and disrespectful…”

Iero snapped back to his father’s impression and slammed his hand back to slap his invisible mother. “Shut up bitch! Go fix me a turkey pot pie.”

He became himself next. “What about you Dad?”

Deep voiced once again: “Fuck you.”

“No, Dad, what about you?”

“Fuck you!”

“NO, DAD, _WHAT ABOUT YOU_?!”

“ _FUCK YOU_!”

Frank then reached out and pretended his father hit him.

The group was utterly shaken. Brendon was the first to speak out. “Is that for real?”

Iero turned to him to stare him down. “You wanna come over some time?”

Pete rolled his eyes, not fooled. “That’s bullshit. It’s all part of your image, I don’t believe a word of it.”

For a split second a look of hurt and judgement flashed across the punk’s eyes. “You don’t believe me?”

“No,” was the jock’s response.

“No?”

“Did I stutter?”

Frank smiled a crazed smile, almost psychotic and walked over, rolling up his sleeve to reveal a circular shaped burn.

“Do you believe _this_? _Huh_? It's about the size of a cigar. _Do I stutter_? You see, _this_ is what you get in _my_ house when you spill _paint_ in the _garage_.”

Pete looked rather distressed and mentally took back the comment. Frank pulled the sleeve back down over his strong arms and began to walk backwards away from the group.

“See, I don't think that I need to sit here with you fuckin' _dildos_ anymore,” he seethed quietly, enunciating every word.

He walked over to the map table and dragged all the maps off it and threw them aggressively to the floor. Climing up on to said table, he hoisted himself up to the second-floor balcony and leaned his head against the cool railing.

Down below him, Gerard seemed visibly upset and worried for the lad. “You shouldn’t have said that!” he whined at Pete.

“How would I know, I mean, he lies about everything anyway!” defended the jock.


	6. marijuana and airbourne rangers

Vernon walked into the hallway, talking to himself about _coffee_ of all things. “Coffee...looks like they scrape it off the bottom of the Mississippi river. Everything's polluted, everything's polluted...the coffee…”

Frank peeked his head around the library door to witness a bumbling Vernon turning into left into the long corridor. He came of the library doors followed by everyone else. Frank grabbed Gerards hand and pulled him next to him. Brendon and Pete stand awkwardly next to each other and Mikey scuffled close behind them at the back of the line.

Gerard laced his fingers into Frank. “How do you know where Vernon went?”

“I don't,” replied the punk smoothly.

“Well then, how do you know when he'll be back?” asked Gerard, his face puzzled.

“I don't,” repeated Frank, turning to the prom queen with a proud, sexy smirk. “being bad feels pretty good, huh?”

Gerard looked up at him through his eyelashes and smirked.

Brendon, clueless as always began pandering around and asking stupid questions. “What's the point in going to Bender's locker?”

“Beats me,” replied Pete with a sigh.

“This is so stupid...Why do you think, why are we risking getting caught?”

“I dunno,” said Pete

Brendon was utterly confused: “So then what are we doing?”

“You ask me one more question and I'm beating the shit out of you,” stated Pete coolly.

A sorry was mumbled from Brendon as they turned to Franks locker, opening, and revealing…

 _Weed_.

“Slob!” exclaimed Pete

“My maid's on vacation,” said Frank, completely ignoring Pete.

“Drugs...” said Brendon to no one in particular.

“Screw that Frank, put it back!” shouted Pete angrily.

Frank took no notice and shoved the weed into his pocket and entwined his fingers with Gerard’s’ and walked off.

“Drugs...the boy had _marijuana_!” whispered Brendon.

The group follow Iero as he made his way through the corridors with Gerard tagging close behind.

“We'll cross through the lab, and then we'll double back.”

Pete was clearly in a mood: “You better be right, if Vernon cuts us off it's your fault, asshole!”

The group of 5 ran down various corridors and avoid frequent run ins with the principle. The group were sprinting and heaving loudly before Frank shushed them and stopped running.

“Wait! Wait, hold it! Hold it! We have to go through the cafeteria!” he said out of breath.

“No, the activities hall,” argued Wentz.

“Hey man, you don't know what you're talking about!”

“No, _you_ don't know what you're talking about!”

Mikey made a loud impatient squeaking noise.

“No, we're through listening to you, we're going this way.”

They all go Pete's way and run into a hall closed by an iron gate.

“Shit!”

“Great idea Jagoff!” quipped Iero sarcastically

“Fuck you!” cursed Wentz.

“Fuck you! Why didn't you listen to Frank?” accused Gerard in a whiny voice.

“We're dead!” whinged Brendon

Frank paused momentarily, before a strange look crossed his eyes. “No, just me.”

“What do you mean?” asked the nerd attentively.

“Get back to the library, keep your unit on this,” said Frank, shoving his weed bag straight down Brendon’s boxers and ran away, singing loudly and abrasively.

“I WANNA BE AN AIRBORNE RANGER!!!”

Vernon, nearby, heard the screaming. “That son of a _bitch_!”

The rest of the group scramble away and run back to library.

Vernon chased Iero all the way to the gym to find him shooting hoops.

“Three...two...one!” shouted Frank – slam dunk.

Vernon came in screaming like a banshee. “Frank! _Frank_!! _FRANK_!!! What is _this_?! _WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE, WHAT IS THIS_?!”

“Oh, hi!”

“ _Out_! That's _it_ , Frank! OUT! It's _over_!”

“Don't you wanna hear my excuse?” laughed Frank, clearly enjoying fucking around this much. “I'm thinking of trying out for a scholarship.”

“Gimmie the ball, Iero.”

Frank faked the ball at Vernon later setting it down and rolling it to the principal, who kicked it angrily, and the pair left the gym.

The rest of the kids were sitting nervously in their seats waiting for Vernon to waltz in with Iero – eventually they did, and Vernon pushed Iero forward.

“Get your stuff, let's go!” He turned to address everyone. “Mr. Wise guy here has taken it upon himself to go to the gymnasium. I'm sorry to inform you, you're going to be without his services for the rest of the day.”

“B-O-O H-O-O!” mocked Frank.

“Everything's a big joke, huh Frank? The false alarm you pulled, Friday, false alarms are _really_ _funny_ , aren't they...What if your home, what if your family...” a pause, “...what if your dope was on fire?”

“Impossible, sir... It's in Urie's underwear,” smiled Bender chaotically, clearly revelling in the chaos he was causing; a look of panic tore across Brendon’s face and Pete laughed.

Vernon seethed and turned to Wentz. “You think he's _funny_? You think this is _cute_? You think he's _bitchin'_ , is that it? Lemme tell you something - look at him, he's a _bum_. You wanna see something funny? You go visit John Bender in five years! You'll see how God damned funny he is.”

“What's the matter, John? You gonna cry? Let's go,” sneered the principle.

Vernon grabbed Frank's shoulder.

“Hey keep your _fuckin'_ hands off me!” Frank said, raising his voice slightly. “I expect better manners from you, _Dick_!”

Iero took his sunglasses out of his pocket and laid them in front of Urie.

“For better hallway vision.”

The punk left, but not before pushing stuff over on the way before Vernon dragged him to the storage closet.

*

“That's the last time, Iero. That's the _last_ _time_ you ever make me look bad in front of those kids, _DO YOU HEAR ME_? I make $31,000 dollars a year and I have a home and I'm not about to throw it away on some _punk_ like you... But someday, man, someday. When you're outta here and you've forgotten all about this place, and they've forgotten all about you and you're wrapped up in your own pathetic life... _I'm gonna be there. That's right_. And I'm gonna kick the living shit out of you, man, I'm gonna _knock your dick in the dirt_.”

Frank stared at the older man, aghast. “Are you threatening me?”

Vernon just sneered again. “What're you gonna do about it? You think anybody's gonna believe you? You think anybody's gonna take your word over mine? I'm a man of respect around here. They _love_ me around here, I'm a swell guy - you're a lying sack of shit! And everybody knows it. Oh, you're a real tough guy, come on, come on. Get on your feet, pal - Let's find out how tough you are! I wanna know right now, how tough you are! Come on! I'll give you the first punch, let's go! Come on, right here, just take the first shot! Please, I'm begging you, take a shot! Come on, just take one shot, that's all I need, just one swing...” rattled on Vernon.

Frank does nothing but sit there staring at Vernon. Vernon faked a punch and Iero flinched.

“That's what I though...you're a gutless turd!” Vernon left and locked the closet door after him.

Less than 5 minutes later, Frank climbed into a hatch in the ceiling and disappeared. Slowly crawling through a heating duct, the punk mutters to himself a joke.

“A naked blonde walks into a bar, with a poodle under one arm and a two-foot salami under the other. She lays the poodle on the table. Bartender says: "I suppose you won't be needing a drink." The naked lady says...” The joke cut off, just like the ceiling under the teen and he screamed falling through.

_“OH SHIT!!!”_

The loud crash and bang makes the kids in the library jump and turn to see where the noice came from.

And, clear as day, Frank walked down the stairs with a smirk and some swagger, like nothing happened.

“I forgot my pencil…”


	7. silent crying

Vernon screams on the other side of the door: “GOD DAMN IT” and ran into the library “What in God’s name is going on in here?! What was that ruckus?”

“Uh, what ruckus?” asked Pete.

“I was just in my office and I heard a ruckus!”

“Could you describe the ruckus, sir?” pitched in Brendon.

“Watch your tongue young man, _watch_ _it_!”

Frank had dashed under the nearest table, which so happened to be Gerard and was curled around his legs. He lifted himself up slightly and accidentally knocked his head against the table above his head, leading out a groan. The group quickly covered it up with knocking certain rhythms in time.

“What was that _noise_?!” cried Vernon.

Under the table, Frank saw Gerard’s lacy underwear: the rest was history.

“What noise?” asked Wentz again, hoping for a distraction.

“Really, sir, there wasn't any noise...” a slight moan escaped Gerard’s mouth as Frank kissed through his pants: _‘wet already’_ thought Iero. Unluckily for him, Gerard squeezed his thighs together to stop Frank – he cried out loud. Everyone started faking a coughing fit in response.

“That noise? Was that the noise you were talking about?” Gee was red and flustered.

“No, it wasn't. That was not the noise I was talking about. Now, I may not have caught you in the act this time, but you can bet I will,” said the principle sternly.

Mikey laughed out loud at Vernon.

“You make book on that Missy!” he shouted, but Mikey just smiled. He turned to the raven-haired boy. “And you! I will not be made a fool of!” and turned and walked away, turning round and a toilet seat cover was stuck to his pants. Everyone burst into a howl of laughter. Everyone except Gerard. Frank crawled out from under the table to be greeted with barrage of slaps from the prom queen.

“It was an accident!” quipped the punk sarcastically.

“You're an asshole,” snarled the prom queen.

“Sue me.”

He stood up and walked over to Brendon. “So, Ahab - kybo mein doobage?”

Brendon gave Frank his bag of marijuana to which Iero walked away, bag in hand.

“Yo, waist-oid...you're not gonna blaze up in here!”

Slowly, one after the other, they go after the punk to get stoned. Eventually, Pete gave up and followed.

Brendon, Frank and Gerard were sitting all together on some sofas, smoking dope and laughing hysterically at nothing. Frank rolls the blunt and places it between Gee’s plump lips, flicked his lighter and brought it close to the cig. The prom queen inhaled and began coughing excessively. Frank just giggled cutely whilst looking at him. Brendon has his own blunt, as does Frank. Gerard and the punk watched Urie exhale smoke and attempted to eat the smoke as a joke.

The group started to make stupid jokes, and Brendon started to make a strange impression: “Chicks, cannot hold dey smoke! Dat's wha i’ is!”

They were all in a laughing fit by this point. Through the hazy smoke, Gee began making eyes at Frank, who smirked. The high washed over the raven-haired boy as he spoke: “Do you know how popular I am? I'm so popular, everybody loves me so much, at this school…”

“Poor baby,” he pouted sympathetically jokingly. He moved closer to him and traced small circles on his thigh, Gerard winking slightly and edging closer to Frank.

Meanwhile, Pete was going insane, dancing, and running about on the top floor, flicking the cigarette to the floor. Meanwhile, Mikey, was watching in awe, mouth slightly agape.

*

Brendon and Pete were sitting together in the opposite corner of the library, with Mikey nervously standing behind a statue, so desperately wanting to join in, but fearing rejection.

“No man, no; you got a middle name?” asked Pete.

“Yeah, guess...” smiled Urie.

Mikey suddenly took interest in the conversation and as he spoke he moved over to attempt to sit next to the duo. “Your middle name is Ralph, as in puke...”

The jock and the nerd looked at her in confusion.

“...your birthday is March 12th, you're five-nine and a half, you weigh a hundred and thirty pounds, and your social security number is …”

“Wow! Are you psychic?” asked Pete, clearly impressed.

Mikey’s head snapped up. “No.”

“Well would you mind telling me how you know all this about me?” asked Brendon, rather scared.

Mikey dug around in his bag. “I stole your wallet...” He produced it in his hands and grinned.

“Give it to me,” demanded Brendon.

“No.”

“Give it!”

Allison reluctantly hands over the wallet and Brian glances through it to make sure nothing is missing.

“This is great...you're a thief too! Huh?”

“I'm not a thief!” said Mikey

“Multi-talented!” retorted Brendon.

“What's there to steal? Two bucks and a beaver shot,” smirked Mikey

Pete’s eyes widen. “A what?”

“He's got a nudie picture in there! I saw it, it's _perverted_ …”

“Alright, let's see it!” laughed Pete.

*

Frank and Gerard sat in the armchairs, with Gee’s bag’s content dumped on the table, many cosmetics and purses strewn across it, some opened. Frank, being Frank, was completely clueless about makeup, so started brushing his teeth with one of Gee’s cosmetics brushes, whilst Gerard sat adjacent to him, flicking through Frank’s wallet of pictures and id cards.

“Are all these your girlfriends and boyfriends?” Gerard spoke up.

“Some of them,” said Frank vaguely.

“What about the others?”

Frank sighed slightly. “Well, some I consider my girlfriends and _some_...I just consider.”

“Consider what?”

“Whether or not, I wanna hang out with them...” he answered, putting down the cosmetics on the table.

Gerard smiled slightly sadly and looked up at him longingly. “You don't believe in just one guy, one girl kind of stuff?”

“Do _you_?”

Gee smiled again. “Yeah...that's the way it should be.”

“Well, not for me...”

There was a small silence between them. Gerard realised he hit a nerve. He pressed on gently. “Why not?”

 _‘Frank clearly doesn't want to answer that…’_ thought Gerard.

The punk grew suddenly defensive. “How come you got so much shit in your purse?”

“How come you got so many girlfriends?” retorted the princess.

“I asked you first.”

Gee hesitated, before shrugging. “I dunno... I guess I never throw anything away.”

“Neither do I...” murmured Frank

*

Mikey, Brendon and Pete are sat in a circle, with Pete flicking through Brendon’s wallet.

“This is the worst fake ID I've ever seen,” he laughed. “Do you realize you made yourself sixty-eight?”

“Oh, I know, I know, I goofed it,” giggled the nerd.

“What do you need a fake ID for?”

“So I can vote!” said the nerd, almost like it was obvious.

Mikey looked up suddenly. “You wanna see what's in my bag?”

Wentz and Urie shared a look. “No!”

A look of hurt flashed across Mikey’s eyes, before clouding over with resentment. Just to spite them, he dumped the contents of his bag onto the couch, with a lot of random objects flying out.

“Holy shit! What is all that stuff?” asked Pete.

Brendon remained unimpressed. “Do you always carry this much shit in your bag?”

Mikey smirked. “Yeah...I always carry _this_ _much_ _shit_ in my bag. You never know when you may have to jam.”

“Are you gonna be like a shopping bag lady? You know like, sit in alleyways and like talk to buildings and wear men's shoes and that kinda thing?” questioned Brendon.

Mikey blinked. “I'll do what I have to do.”

“Why do you have to do anything?” pressed the nerd.

“My home life is _unsatisfying_.” Mikey stared hard at the pair and spoke with emotion.

“So you're saying you'd subject yourself to the violent dangers of the Chicago streets because your home-life is _unsatisfying_?”

“I don't have to run away and live in the street... I can run away and, go to the _ocean_ , I can go to the _country_ , I can go to the _mountains_. I can go to Israel, Africa, _Afghanistan_...” babbled the basketcase.

Brendon said nothing whilst moving closer to Pete “Pete... you wanna get in on this? Mikey here says, he wants to run away, because his home life is unsatisfying...”

“Well, everyone's home lives are unsatisfying. If it wasn't, people would live with their parents forever,” said the jock sympathetically.

“Yeah, yeah I understand. But I think that his goes beyond, you know, what guys like you and me consider normal unsatisfying.”

Mikey looked upset and began to shove all the stuff back in his bag. “Never mind, forget it, _everything's cool_.”

“What's the deal?” quizzed Wentz.

“No! There's no deal, _Sporto_. Forget it, _leave me alone_.”

“Wait a minute, now you're carrying all that crap around in your purse; either you _really_ wanna run way or you want people to _think_ you wanna run away.

“ _Eat_ _shit_!” hissed the basket case and ran away.

“The girl is an island, with herself. Okay?” chucked Brendon.

Pete ignored him and went after Mikey, finding him in a secluded corner of the library. “Hi, you wanna talk?”

“No,” argued Mikey.

“Why not?”

“Go away.”

“Where do you want me to go?”

Mikey shook his head and shouted: “ _GO_ away!”

Pete just sighed and turned away, only for Mikey’s tears to fall down his cheeks. He clearly didn’t want Pete to leave.

“ _You_ have problems!” he cried.

“Oh, _I_ have problems?”

“You do everything everybody ever tells you to do, _that_ is a problem!”

Pete tried to reason with the latter. “Okay, fine... but I didn't dump my purse out on the couch and invite people into my problems, did I?” Mikey began to stop sobbing loudly, and Pete leaned closer to him.

“So what's wrong? What is it? Is is bad? Real bad? Parents?” he asked gently.

The broken basket case cried silently “Yeah...”

Pete nodded in understanding “What do they do to you?”

“They ignore me...” whispered Mikey softly.

And soon enough the two were crying together, feeling a little less alone.


	8. group therapy

It’s about an hour from the end of detention and the gang are sitting around in a circle.

“What would I do for a million bucks? Well, I guess I'd do as little as I had to,” laughed Pete.

“That's boring!” whined Gerard playfully.

“Well, how'm I s'posed to answer?”

“The idea is to like search your mind for the absolute limit. Like, uh…” the raven-haired boy thought for a second before a devilish gleam crossed his eyes. “Would you drive to school naked?”

Pete started to wheeze with laughter. “Um, uh...would I have to get out of the car?”

“Of course!”

“In the spring, or winter?”

“It doesn't matter...spring.”

“In front of the school or in back of the school?”

“Either one.”

The jock paused momentarily before grinning. “Yes...”

“I'd do that!” Mikey spoke up out of nowhere.

The group turned to stare at the boy in black. “I'll do anything sexual, I don't need a million dollars to do it either.”

“You're lying,” Gee rolled his eyes.

“I already have. I've done just about everything there is except a few things that are illegal... I'm a nymphomaniac,” smirked the basket case proudly.

“Lie.”

Brendon looked shocked. “Are your parents aware of this?”

“The only person I told was my shrink,” replied Mikey.

“And what'd he do when you told him?” questioned Pete.

“He nailed me,” Mikey was grinning insanely.

“Very nice,” mumbled Gerard sarcastically.

“I don't think that from a legal standpoint what he did can be construed as rape since I paid him.”

“He's an _adult_!” exclaimed the prom queen.

Mikey was obviously relishing the attention. “Yeah...he's married too!”

Gerard was utterly grossed out. “Do you have any idea how completely _gross_ that is?”

“Well, the first few times...”

Gerards jaw dropped. “First few times? You mean he did it more than once?”

“Sure.”

“Are you crazy?”

Brendon was equally as worried as Gee. “Obviously he's crazy if he's screwing his shrink!”

“Have you ever done it?” smirked Mikey, knowing he had Gee cornered.

“I don't even have a psychiatrist,” the raven-haired boy clicked his tongue.

“Have you ever done it with a _normal_ _person_?” pressed Mikey.

“Now, didn't we already cover this?”

Frank was smirking broadly. “ _You_ never answered the question.”

“Look, I'm not gonna discuss my private life with total strangers,” swallowed the princess.

“It's kind of a double-edged sword, isn't it? Well, if you say you haven't, you're a prude. If you say you have, you're a slut. It's a _trap_. You want to but you can't but when you do you wish you didn't, right?” leered Mikey.

“Wrong,” said Gerard scornfully.

“Or, are you a tease?” whispered the boy in black.

“He's a tease,” agreed Pete.

“Oh why don't you just forget it.”

“You're a tease and you know it, all girls/femboys are teases!” Pete said laughing.

“He's only a tease if what he does gets you hot,” smirked Frank, knowing exactly what to say to piss off the boy across from him who he secretly really liked when they teased each other.

“I don't do anything!” whinged the princess.

“That's _why_ you're a tease,” smiled Mikey, finally proving his point.

“Okay, lemme ask you a few questions!” argued Gerard.

Mikey suddenly turned defensive. “I've already told you everything!”

“No! Doesn't it bother you to sleep around without being in love. I mean don't you want any respect?”

At this comment, Franks face completely lit up.

“I don't screw to get respect. That's the difference between you and me.”

“Not the only difference, I hope,” mumbled Gerard scornfully.

“Face it, you're a tease,” smiling widely, clearly enjoying irritating Gee.

“I'm not a tease!”

“Sure you are! You said it yourself - sex is a weapon; you use it to get respect.”

“No, I never said that - she twisted my words around.”

“Oh then what do you use it for?” asked Frank mockingly.

Gerard was clearly getting flustered and was on the verge of tears. “I don't use it period!”

“Oh, are you medically frigid or is it psychological?” half-joked Frank.

“I didn't mean it that way! You guys are putting words into my mouth!”

“Well if you'd just answer the question,” stated Frank.

“Why don't you just answer the question?” asked Brendon.

Pete began to join in. “Be honest!”

“No big deal.”

“Yeah, answer it!”

“Answer the question, Gee!”

“Talk to us!”

“Come on, answer the question!”

“It's easy, it's only one question!”

Gerard screamed and stunned them all to silence. _“NO! I NEVER DID IT!!”_

Awkward silence settled over the group like a dark cloud.

Mikey gulped and spoke in a small voice. “I never did it either. I'm not a nymphomaniac... I'm a compulsive liar.”

Anger set into Gee’s features. “You are such a _bitch_! You did that on purpose _just_ to fuck me over!”

“I would do it though. If you love someone it's okay,” comforted Mikey.

“I can't believe you, you're so weird. You don't say anything _all day_ and then when you open your mouth...you unload all these tremendous _lies_ all over me!”

“You’re just pissed-off because he got you to admit something you didn't want to admit to,” spoke Pete calmly, hitting the nail on the head.

“Okay, fine, but that doesn't make it any less bizarre,” said Gee with a scowl.

“What's bizarre? I mean we're all pretty bizarre. Some of us are just better at hiding it, that's all,” chatted Pete.

“How are you bizarre?” asked Gerard, to which Pete suddenly grew quiet.

Mikey decided to field that question. “He can't think for himself.”

“He's right,” mumbled the jock. “Do you guys know what, uh, what I did to get in here? I taped Larry Lester's buns together.”

Gee laughed loudly.

Brendon looked hurt. “That was you?”

Pete turned to the nerd sat next to him “Yeah, you know him?”

“Yeah, I know him…”

“Well then you know how hairy he is, right? Well, when they pulled the tape off, most of his hair came off and some, some skin too…” murmured Pete, growing more ashamed as the story unravelled.

“Oh my God...” gasped the princess.

“And the bizarre thing is, is that I did it for my old man. I tortured this poor kid because I wanted him to think that I was cool. He's always going off about, you know, when he was in school, all the wild things he used to do. And I got the feeling that he was disappointed that I never cut loose on anyone, right? So, I'm- I'm sitting in the locker room, and I'm taping up my knee. And Larry's undressing a couple lockers down from me. Yeah... he's kinda... he's kinda skinny, weak. I started thinking about my father, and his attitude about weakness. And the next thing I knew, I uh, I jumped on top of him and started wailing on him, and my friends, they just laughed and cheered me on. Afterwards, when I was sittin' in Vernon's office, all I could think about was Larry's father. And Larry havin' to go home and... and explain what happened to him. And the humiliation... the fucking humiliation he must’ve felt. It must’ve been unreal. I mean…”

Pete was crying now.

“I mean, how do you apologize for something like that? There's no way. It's all because of me and my old man. Oh God, I fucking _hate_ him! He's like this, he's like this mindless machine that I can't even relate to anymore. _"Andrew, you've got to be number one! I won't tolerate any losers in this family...Your intensity is for shit! Win. Win! WIN!!!"_ You son of a bitch! You know, sometimes, I wish my knee would give and I wouldn't be able to wrestle anymore. And he could forget all about me…”

“I think your old man and my old man should get together and go bowling,” smiled Frank sadly to which Pete laughed briefly.

Brendon spoke up. “It's like me, you know, with my grades...like, when I, when I step outside myself kinda, and when I, when I look in at myself you know? And I see me, and I don't like what I see, I really don't.”

“What's wrong with you? Why don't you like yourself?” asked Gee sympathetically.

“'Cause I'm stupid. 'Cause I'm failing shop. See we had this assignment, to make this ceramic elephant, and um...and we had eight weeks to do it and we're s'posed ta, and it was like a lamp, and when you pull the trunk the light was s'posed to go on...my light didn't go on, I got a F on it. Never got a F in my life... When I signed up, you know, for the course I mean. I thought I was playing it real smart, you know. 'Cause I thought, I'll take shop, it'll be such an easy way to maintain my grade point average...”

Frank had a look which was a careful combination of defensive and angry. “Why'd you think it'd be easy?”

“Have you seen some of the dopes that take shop?”

“ _I_ take shop. You must be a fuckin' idiot!”

“I'm a fuckin' idiot because I can't make a _lamp_?”

“No, you're a _genius_ because you can't make a lamp!”

“What do you know about Trigonometry?”

“I could care _less_ about Trigonometry.”

“Iero, did you know without Trigonometry there'd be no engineering?”

“Without _lamps_ , there'd be no _light_!”

Gee stepped in before things escalated. “Okay so neither one of you is any better than the other one.”

Mikey looked on feeling a little left out. “I can write with my toes! I can also eat, brush my teeth...”

“With your feet?” the princess looked disgusted.

The basket case smirked “...play Heart & Soul on the piano.”

“I can make spaghetti!” stated Brendon happily.

“What can you do?” asked Gee to Wentz.

“I can, uh, tape all your buns together!” laughed the jock, to which the group giggled, all apart from Frank.

“I wanna see what _Gerard_ can do!”

Embarrassment clouded the prom queens face as he looked down. “I can't do anything.”

“Now, everybody can do something,” said Frank, lo7oking to irritate someone.

“There's one thing I can do,” smiled Gerard to himself before shaking his head. “No forget it, it's way too embarrassing.”

“You ever seen Wild Kingdom? I mean that guy's been doing that show for thirty years.”

“Okay, but you have to swear to God you won't laugh! I can't believe I'm actually doing this.”

Gee took out a lipstick, screwed off a cap and stuck it in between his bra cups and applied it from there. When he lifted his head, his lipstick was perfect. Everyone was pleasantly surprised and clapped lightly.

Frank's clap was sarcastic and slow. Almost mocking.

Pete grinned. “All right, great! Where'd you learn to do that?”

“Camp, seventh grade,” smiled Gerard in response.

“That was great, Gee. My image of you is totally blown!” clapped Frank sarcastically.

“You're a _shit_! Don't do that to him you swore to God you wouldn't laugh!” hissed Mikey.

“Am I laughing?” smirked Frank nastily.

“You _fucking_ prick!” shouted Pete.

Frank just stared at Pete, his eyes full of hurt. As he spoke, you could see his words hitting home. “What do you care what I think, anyway? I don't even count, _right_? I could disappear _forever,_ and it wouldn't make any difference - I may as well not even _exist_ at this school, _remember_?”

He turned to Gee. “And you don't like me anyway!”

“You know, I have just as many feelings as you do and it hurts just as much when somebody steps all over them!”

A pained look distorted the punks face as he screwed up his eyes. “ _God_ , you're so pathetic!” he spat, suddenly turning furious. “Don't you ever - _ever_! – compare yourself to me! Okay?! You got everything, and I got _shit_! Fuckin' Rapunzel, right? School would probably fucking shut down if you didn't show up! ‘ _Queenie isn't here_!’” he stopped shouting and spoke in a low condescending tone. “I like those earrings Gee.”

“Shut up...” muttered Gee.

“Are those _real_ _diamonds_ , Gee?”

“Shut up!”

“I bet they are. Did you work for the money for those earrings?”

“Shut your mouth,” winged the prom queen.

“Or did your daddy buy those?”

Gerard was livid and had tears streaming down her face. “Shut up!”

“I bet he bought those for you! I bet those are a Christmas gift! Right? You know what I got for Christmas this year? _It was a banner fuckin' year at the old Bender family!_ I got a carton of cigarettes. The old man grabbed me and said _‘Hey! Smoke up Johnny!’_ Okay? So go home 'n cry to your daddy, don't cry here, okay?”

Gerard was now crying lighting, staring at the floor and Frank was unable to look him in the eye, with Pete, Brendon and Mikey processing what happened.

“My God are we gonna be like our parents?” asked Pete quietly.

“Not me, ever…” cried Gerard.

“It's unavoidable, it just happens,” whispered Mikey.

“What happens?” questioned Gerard with shining eyes.

“When you grow up, your heart dies.”

“Who cares?” Frank rolled his eyes.

Mikey had tears spilling over his lashes. “I care…”

Brendon cleared his throat. “Um, I was just thinking, I mean. I know it's kind of a weird time, but I was just wondering, um, what is gonna happen to us on Monday? When we're all together again? I mean I consider you guys my friends, I'm not wrong, am I?”

Pete shook his head.

“So, so on Monday...what happens?”

“Are we still friends, you mean? If we're friends now, that is?” Gerard held his head up weakly to stare at the nerd. “Do you want the truth?”

“Yeah, I want the truth...”

Gerard took a deep breath in before responding. “I don't think so...”

“Well, do you mean all of us or just Frank?” quipped Mikey.

“With all of you...” Gee’s voice faltered.

Pete stared at him angrily. “That's a real nice attitude, Gerard!”

“Oh, be honest, Pete! If Brendon came walking up to you in the hall on Monday, what would you do? I mean picture this, you're there with all the sports. I know exactly what you'd do - you'd say hi to him and when he left, you'd cut him all up so your friends wouldn't think you really liked him!” Gerard explained.

“No way!”

Mikey stiffened. “'Kay, what if I came up to you?”

“Same exact thing!”

It was at this moment, Frank completely lost it he screamed at the prom queen. “ _You_ are a _BITCH_!”

Gerard whipped his head to stare at Frank across from him, taken aback. “Why? 'Cause I'm telling the truth, _that_ makes me a bitch?!”

“No! 'Cause you know how _shitty_ that is to do to someone! And you don't got the balls to stand up to your friends and tell 'em that you're gonna like who you wanna like!”

“Okay, what about you, you hypocrite?! Why don't you take Mikey to one of your heavy metal vomit parties? Or take Brendon out to the parking lot at lunch to get high? What about Wentz for that matter, what about _me_? What would your friends say if we were walking down the hall together? They'd laugh their _asses_ off and you'd probably tell them you were doing it with me so they'd forgive you for being seen with me,” said Gerard scornfully.

Frank seethed once again, this vein in the side of his throb. “Don't you _ever_ talk about my friends! You don't _know_ any of my friends, you don't _look_ at any of my friends and you certainly wouldn't condescend to _speak_ to any of my friends. So you just stick to the things you know: shopping, nail polish, your father's BMW and your poor, rich, drunk mother in the Caribbean.”

“Shut up!” screamed the prom queen.

But Frank wasn’t finished. “And as far as being concerned about what's gonna happen when you and I walk down the hallways at school, you can _forget_ _it_! 'Cause it's _never_ gonna happen! Just bury your head in the sand and wait for your _fuckin'_ _prom_!”

Gerard was in a shamble of tears. “I hate you!” his voice broke as he spoke.

“Yeah? Good!!” thundered Frank’s voice.

An unsettling silence hung like a fog over the group. Urie broke the silence.

“Then I assume Allison and I are better people than you guys, huh? Us weirdos?” Brendon turned to Mikey. “Would you do that to me?”

Mikey looked to the floor, fiddling with the hem of his sleeve. “I don't have any friends.”

“Well if you did?”

“No - I don't think the kind of friends I'd have would mind,” the basket case said with a small smile.

Brendon sat up. “I just wanna tell, each of you, that I wouldn't do that...I wouldn't and I will not! 'Cause I think that's real shitty.”

“Your friends wouldn't mind because they look up to us,” mumbled Gerard.

Brendon just laughed out loud. “You're so conceited, Gerard. You're so conceited. You're so, like, full of yourself, why are you like that?”

The prom queen was crying again. “I'm not saying that to be conceited! I _hate_ it! I hate having to go along with everything my friends say!”

“Well then why do you do it?”

Gerard sighed. “I don't know, I don't - you don't understand… you don't. You're not friends with the same kind of people that Pete and I are friends with! You know, you just don't understand the pressure that they can put on you!

Brendon’s mouth fell open. “I don't understand what? You think I don't understand pressure, Gerard? Well _fuck_ you! Fuck you!” the nerd hid his face in his arm, sobbing. “Know why I'm here today? Do you? I'm here because Mr. Ryan found a gun in the locker.”

“Why'd you have a gun in your locker?” demanded Pete.

“I tried. You pull the fuckin' trunk on it and the light's s'posed to go on...and it didn't go on, I mean, I...” Brendon was a stuttering mess.

Pete asked again. “What's the gun for Brendon?”

“Just forget it.”

“You brought it up, man!”

“I can't have an F, I can't have it and I know my parents can't have it! Even if I aced the rest of the semester, I'm still only a B. And everything's ruined for me!”

Gerard’s face filled with pity. “Oh Bren...”

“So I considered my options, you know?” sniffed Brendon.

“No! Killing yourself is _not_ an option!” said Gerard with a high pitched voice.

“Well I didn't do it, did I? No, I don't think so!”

“It was a handgun?” asked the basket case quietly.

“No, it was a flare gun, went off in my locker.”

“Really?” Pete started to wheeze.

“It's not funny…” said Brendon, but soon enough the whole group was laughing. “Yes it is...fuckin' elephant was destroyed!”

“You wanna know what I did to get in here? Nothing. I didn't have anything better to do.”

Giggling erupted throughout the group.

“You're laughing at me!” smiled Mikey.

“No!” beamed Pete.

“Yeah you are!”

Something in the air felt a little bit safer, less tension and overall, better. The group found a record and loudspeaker, and just danced about for a while, letting loose.


	9. a kiss to the finale

Frank left the group, crawling back into the air duct and going back to the dingy supply closet.

*

"Brendon?" called Gerard.

"Yeah?"

"Are you gonna write your paper?"

The nerd nodded his head. "Yeah, why?"

"Well, it's kinda a waste for all of us to write our paper, don't you think?" the princess quirked his eyebrow.

"Oh, but that's what Vernon wants us to do..."

Gerard sighed. "True, but I think we'd all kinda say the same thing."

"You just don't want to write your paper, right?" smiled Brendon.

"True, but you're the smartest, right?"

Brendon beamed with pride. "Oh, well..."

The two shared a smile. "We trust you."

Brendon glanced over to Pete and Mikey, who nodded curtly before returning to give each other eyes and stare at the latter.

"All right, I'll do it."

"Great!" the prom queen clapped his hands. He then turned to face Mikey. He winked and then giggled. "Come on," he motioned with his hands.

Mikey mirrored the same look. "Where're we going?"

"Come on!"

*

Gerard was faffing around, fluffing Mikey's hair, parting the fringe away from his face slightly so you could see his eyes better, but not completely ruining his look and pinned it with a small clip, and straightened his black clothes, since they were rather crinkled. Gerard had also wiped away most of the heavy black makeup but was reapplying the same shade but slightly less coverage and more framing.

"Don't be afraid," he mumbled as he gently brushed the eyeliner pencil across the basket cases eyelid.

"Don't stick that in my eye!" whined Mikey.

"I'm not sticking it, just close- just go like that..." Gerard closed his eyes and opened his mouth, which Mikey mimicked. The prom queen continued with the pencil and Mikey squealed a little.

"You know you really do look a lot better without too much of that black shit on your eyes," commented Gee.

"Hey! I like that black shit," smiled Mikey. "Please, why're you being so nice to me?"

"'Cause you're letting me," stated the latter.

*

Brendon was too busy scribbling away on his paper to notice Pete completely absorbed in thought, but then glanced up to see Mikey standing before him, with his hair slightly pushed away from his eyes and a nice droopy, black dress. The ex-basket case began to walk towards him and stopped when he noticed Brendon staring at him with his mouth open. He glared hard at him, but Brendon's open mouth turned upwards into an approving smile, with a silent 'cool!' being sighed. He grinned and mouthed thank you. We see Andrew and Allison.

Pete Wentz was grinning. "What happened to you?"

"Why? Gee did it! What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, it's just so different. I can see your face," he stared, clearly in awe of seeing Mikey in his natural element, but more refined.

"Is that good or bad?" smirked Mikey Way.

"It's good!" he chuckled, and the two shared a smile.

Meanwhile, Brendon Urie had finally finished his essay with kissing the paper and giving himself a congratulatory punch in the arm.

*

Frank Iero was sat on the cupboard floor when he heard the door click open, and in came...

Gerard Way.

Frank smirked "You lost?"

The latter didn't respond except for smiling a sweet smile and stepping forward towards a now standing Frank. The two were standing right in front of each other, staring at the latter's lips, before Gerard took the plunge and leaned in, with a gentle kiss, before it became more heated. It eventually broke off as Gerard pulled away, their lips smacking.

Frank's eyes were like saucers. "Why'd you do that?"

"'Cause I knew you wouldn't."

"You know how you said before, how your parents used you to get back at each other? Wouldn't I be _outstanding_ in that capacity?" he half-joked, smirking like an idiot.

Gerard's eyes were searching all over Frank's face. "Were you really disgusted about what I did with my lipstick?"

"Truth?"

"Truth."

Frank nodded as he spoke: "No."

The two kissed gently again, the heat of the small closet bringing the two closer together, with their tongues in a soft dance, with wet, open mouthed kisses.

*

End of detention. Freedom. The group walked down the main corridor, met by Carl the janitor sweeping. Brendon nodded at him with a bright smile.

"See ya Brian!" said Carl, to which Brendon waved goodbye.

"See you next Saturday..." giggled Frank to Carl.

"You bet!"

And so they began to disperse in the parking lot, with Brendon getting into his dad's car and leaving first. Pete and Mikey share a tender kiss, not long before Mikey nicked a patch off of Wentz's sports blazer, staring longingly at him before stepping into his care and speeding off. Pete's dads car pulled up, to which the jock clambered into and drove away.

Gerard took out a dimond earring, opening up Frank's gloved hand and placing it inside, curling the latter's fingers into a fist around the diamond. The two stare longingly at each other before leaning in to kiss, barely grazing each other's lips, before Frank tried to go again, but was swerved by Gerard who swiftly and politely stepped into his car. Frank was slightly hurt but took it under his chin, taking the earring and putting it in.

*

**_Dear Mr. Vernon,_ **

_We accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us... in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions._

_But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain... and an athlete... and a basket case... a princess... and a criminal._

_Does that answer your question?_

_**Sincerely yours, the Breakfast Club.** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ✧
> 
> author note:
> 
> dear all, thank you so much for the love on this book, and i'm happy to say it's finally finished. i'll be sure to write more frerard related books in the future, i loved doing this adaptation. do you think i should write a little prologue for this? like a little one shot as a bonus chapter about frank and gerard's relationship development because i think there's so much more to be done here. what do you all think? i'll be more than happy to write one!!
> 
> keep the faith,  
> xomeg


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